Perhaps
for a moment… A hush will fall over the land. For an instant, in the stillness The chiming of the celestial spheres will be heard As earth hangs poised in the crystalline darkness, and then gracefully tilts. Stunned to stillness by beauty We remember who we are and why we are here. There are inexplicable mysteries. We are not alone. The cosmos enfolds us. We are caught in a web of stars, Cradled in a swaying embrace, Rocked by the night In the unceasing rhythm of the Universe From darkness towards light. (Adapted from Rebecca Ann Parker's poem Winter Solstice)
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by Mark Donovan
A dharma talk given December 17, 2024 Tonight I’d like to explore our practice through a lens of courage. Courage — from the French word, coeur, heart. Recent talks by our group of teachers have explored the experience of uncertainty that is arising for many of us in these times of rapid change — and how uncertainty can seed a sense of danger and feelings of fear. Fear is an afflictive emotion, some say the root of the three poisons: clinging, aversion, and delusion. In Brian Lesage’s talk on uncertainty, he pointed to how fear can be constricting when it gets the upper hand — when we avoid and withdraw into a protective stance, life gets cramped and small. As the writer Elena Ferrante puts it in one of her novels: Everything in the world is in precarious balance, pure risk, and those who don’t agree to take the risk waste away in a corner, without getting to know life.” Ken, Brenda and Carol all suggested how challenging it can be for us to hang out in a place of groundlessness, of not knowing. Our nervous systems evolved to keep us safe and to find security in the predictable; we want answers to our questions but may have to wait patiently for them to be revealed in their own time. We might say that learning to be more comfortable with uncertainty is exactly what this practice is all about. Pema Chodron’s teachings are all about this. Just listen to her book titles : The Places That Scare You, When Things Fall Apart, Comfortable With Uncertainty, The Wisdom of No Escape. Last week Carol suggested another response to uncertainty, one of opening to the mystery and wonder of life as it arises moment–by-moment, perhaps a continuation of her talk on improvisation, of responding to whatever life may present to us with, “Yes, and…” as we join in the dance. Courage is a quality that feels important and useful for facing the challenges of uncertainty and change. Courage is not a quality that appears on any of the Theravadin Buddhist lists. It is not one of the 37 awakening or liberating qualities. But although it is given little status on its own in the scriptural writings, I believe it is a quality that we manifest often in many different ways in our practice — this practice that aims at the unshakeable release of the heart, the coeur. In its earliest forms, courage meant "to speak one's mind by telling all one's heart". Heart and mind together. To me this sounds a lot like the meaning of the Pali word citta, which refers to the heart-mind, not separate but one. Merriam Webster defines courage as mental or moral strength to venture, persevere and withstand danger, fear or difficulty. Another definition includes a quality of spirit — spiritual strength. So we can think of courage as mental, moral and spiritual strength to persevere in the face of fear, danger and difficulty. by Kenn Duncan
A dharma talk given December 3, 2024 As we fast approach the end of yet another year, there is a lot of contentiousness, and division in our world. And along with that, a lot of worry or insecurity about our future, depending on your outlook. Politically, socially, environmentally, many of us find the direction of our world filled with uncertainty. This storm, this deluge, can flood us with emotions. I have many friends who are questioning everything, and really want to know answers now. It’s said that when asked questions about enlightenment, or what happens after death, or, or, or… Ajahn Chah would smile and say “It’s uncertain, isn’t it?” I was remembering the uncertainty we all faced just a few years back with the pandemic and how it became an opportunity for us to befriend our fears, be compassionate with them, and radiate this compassion to those around us. And many people did just that, and many of us have this opportunity once more. We can only work with and make decisions in this moment, only with the information that we know and understand. We have to let go of the worry of what could be or what might happen. The world is changing around us, always has been, always will be and it can be a little scary for us all. by Kenn Duncan
A dharma talk given November 26, 2024 We have this holiday coming this week, something I’m reminded constantly by my good friends from England that we only celebrate here in the U.S. It’s a bit of a strange holiday when you trace it’s origins, and it’s become a time when some people do take the time to stop (just before the deluge of the next holiday, Christmas, and all that brings) and share thankfulness, gratitude. I like the name of this holiday — Thanksgiving — because it sort of holds the idea of both giving and receiving. 'Thanks' and 'Giving' carry this sort of wonderful mutuality of giving and receiving. It's an expression of appreciation and even an expression of kindness, to give thanks and to be thanked. There's a story about Siddhartha Buddha, after he was enlightened, that he spent a lot of time gazing day and night the Bodhi tree under which he was enlightened, in gratitude of the tree. The protection and the support it gave him for this amazing experience of freedom and presence that he discovered. The Buddha didn't teach much about gratitude specifically, but it is said that he made the statement that no one is injured in feeling gratitude. This idea that no one is injured, that you won't be injured in feeling gratitude is a wonderful thought. I started something with my daughter when she was little, especially after a rough day. After she would share her difficulties or struggles, I’d ask her to share something that may have happened that she was happy or grateful for. In a short time we’d just start sharing with each other things we were grateful for pretty much every day. I’ve taken this with me to this day. At the end of the day, usually my final meditation includes a run down of all the things that may have happened that lifted me up, or made me smile, or made me feel good or grateful. The idea of doing this is not to do it forcefully or pretend things are better than they are. The idea is to really reflect on what we genuinely appreciate. By Rev. Dr. Grace G. Burford
Quad City Interfaith Council annual Celebration of Thanks Nov. 21, 2024 One time a student asked her Zen teacher, “What is the gate of Zen?” The teacher replied, “Generosity.” The early Buddhist scriptures are full of accounts of the Buddha teaching his followers about giving [dāna]. He teaches them when, where, what, and how to give, so that the giving benefits the giver as well as the receiver. For example, he says one who gives beneficially is “joyful before giving”; “has a calm, confident mind in the act of giving”; and “is elated after giving.” [Anguttara Nikāya III, 336] Why is giving so important in Buddhist practice? To give something, we have to let go of it. It’s not really giving if we give and then try hold on to what we gave. This connection between giving and letting go is embedded in the early Buddhist word for generosity [cāga]. This term has two meanings: in some contexts, it refers to the attitude that leads us to give, in other words, what we would call “generosity.” In other places, it means to “let go.” Letting go of clinging to things and people and experiences—to anything, really—is a central aim of Buddhist practice, because clinging leads to suffering for ourselves and others. So, for Buddhist practitioners, giving beneficially and often, cultivating generosity, contributes directly to the reduction of suffering for all. Just as we can enter through a gate, we can also go out through it. We enter the gate of spiritual practice by being generous, and we emerge back out into the world being generous. May we spread generosity to all beings as we move through the world. May all beings be put at ease by our generosity. May all beings feel safe in our generosity. May all beings be happy, experiencing our generosity. Rev. Dr. Grace G. Burford Quad City Interfaith Council annual Celebration of Thanks Nov. 21, 2024 by Carol Russell
This essay is adapted from a talk given at the Tuesday night sangha gathering on November 12, 2024 I want to begin by acknowledging the deep feelings many people are experiencing right now as our country has just gone through an intense election season, whether or not the results went the way you were hoping. You may be experiencing fear, worry, anger, or despair, or you might be feeling relief and gladness. Tonight, we will be exploring the states of expansion and contraction. I am using the term openness alongside expansion, since it captures a certain quality that is important. First, we will look at what might each of these experiences be. How are they valuable? And then we will explore how they work together. It is my hope that spending some time broadening our understanding of these two qualities that are part of our human experience might bring some understanding and solace for the times we are in. Contraction One view of contraction is the experience we have when we are living in own narrow view of life. We are up in our head ruminating on our own little world. It can feel like we have fallen in a well; that contracted feeling is our own personal well. It is constricted and isolated. There’s a little patch of light up there, but it casts a dim light. It becomes so normal to us to live within this narrow view that we don’t realize we are in it. This is all so very human. As practitioners of mindfulness, we begin to have a different experience. There’s a quality of mindfulness that allows us to take a step back and open to a broader view. In our mindfulness practice, we find there is a kind of back and forth, from softness, openness, and expansiveness to being lost in a story where all there is in the experience of the story and all its papancca or proliferation, as the story spins out in our minds, and then back to the open state of being mindful. This back and forth can be very revealing about the possibilities of our own mind. by Kenn Duncan
A dharma talk given April, 2024 A practice mostly known from the Zen tradition, but making its way into the western practices, is the practice of not knowing. A not-knowing mind, or sometimes referred to as a beginner’s mind. It is the mind that is innocent of preconceptions and expectations, judgments and prejudices. A mind that is just present to explore and observe and see “things as they are.” It’s kind of like facing life like a small child, full of curiosity and wonder and amazement. “I wonder what this is? I wonder what that is? I wonder what this means?” Without approaching things with a fixed point of view or a prior judgment, just asking “What is it?” I heard notes of this practice first from Gil Fronsdal, and explored a little bit some of the teachings of Zen Master Suzuki Roshi, but dug deeper a few years back after a Frank Turner concert. Frank Turner: “Today’s day and age and with all the new social media craze - we spend a lot of time disagreeing with each other and holding our ground no matter what we really know or don’t know…" He suggests that we try using this expression “I don’t know”… “as we get older we start to realize that we don’t really know anything about anything and neither does anybody else.” Secondarily, “I’ve changed my mind”, letting go of what we think we know to open ourselves up to a new understanding or way of thinking. “Take a Breath, try these for size…I don’t know, I’ve changed my mind, between life and death we’ll find the time to get it right”. – Frank Turner from “Get It Right” Suzuki Roshi notes in his book Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s there are few.” Not knowing, we meet our experience with a mind that simply doesn’t know, that is open to possibility, that has some wonder, that is not demanding a situation to be a certain way or a person to be a certain way, not requiring ourselves to be a certain way, not putting limits on things, not contracting with our thoughts. A not-knowing mind can be relaxed with how things are, and is spacious and relaxed. by Carol Russell
A dharma talk given May 21, 2024 This is something I have been considering lately. The Buddha seemed very interested in working with what it is to be a human being. After he encountered the four sights as a young man (old age, sickness, death, and an ascetic person), what he saw sent him on his spiritual search After his ascetic phase, in which he had so mortified his body he nearly starved himself, he realized this way of denial was not leading to the end of suffering. In his realization, he no longer sought to transcend the human body. The teachings he brought forth recognize humanness, the human condition. After his liberation, he brought his teachings right into this conventional everyday muddled human life. He illuminated the middle way as a way to liberation from dissatisfaction: not indulging and not denying. We eat, so instead of getting rid of eating, which didn’t go well for him, he brought in teachings around eating. Teachings we now have of self-care, of non-harming, of mindful eating. He recommended we seek out quiet spaces to practice. But instead of insisting on total silence, and having aversion to the inevitable noise, he taught how to incorporate sound into practice. Through this we learn that nothing is outside of mindfulness. Humans are talkers, so he made recommendations for how speech might be used that is mindful and appropriate to the situation. This is the subject of tonight’s talk. Wise speech. In fact, mindful speech holds a prominent place in these teachings. This is surely a reflection of how important the Buddha regarded communication. In the Noble Eightfold Path teachings, a wholistic practical summary of the path, wise speech is singled out as one of the eight keys of practice leading to liberation. Wise speech gets its very own place By Carol Russell
A dharma talk given April 2, 2024 From Anguttara Nikaya Sutta 9.3 With Meghiya [In February I was on a week-long retreat with Brian Lesage & Diana Clark. Over five of the retreat days, they gave five dharma talks that corresponded to this teaching. Some of this talk comes from my notes from that retreat, some from my own thoughts.] The story of Meghiya begins as many Buddhist stories do: so I have heard. The Buddha is staying near Calika. Meghiya was the Buddha’s attendant. One day Meghiya goes up to the Buddha and asks to go to the nearby village for alms. The Buddha agrees. So, in the morning, Meghiya robes up, takes his bowl, and goes for almsround. On his way back, he walks along the shore of the river and comes upon a mango grove. He thinks: “Oh, this mango grove is lovely and delightful! This is good enough for striving for someone wanting to strive. If the Buddha allows me, I’ll come back to this mango grove to meditate.” When he got back to the Buddha, Meghiya asks if he can go to the mango grove to meditate. The Buddha asks him to wait, since there’s no one else there to help out. He asks that Meghiya wait until someone else shows up to take Meghiya’s place. A bit later, Meghiya is impatient and says, Hey, there’s nothing else to do. How about now? Can I go to the mango grove to meditate? Again, the Buddha says, We’re alone Meghiya. Wait until someone else comes. A third time Meghiya asks: “Sir, the Buddha has nothing more to do, and nothing that needs improvement. But I have. If you allow me, I’ll go back to that mango grove to meditate.” The Buddha says, “Meghiya, since you speak of meditation, what can I say? Please, Meghiya, go at your convenience.” Meghiya goes to the mango grove, plunges deep into it, and sits down at the root of a tree for the day’s meditation. But while he is meditating, he is beset by three kinds of bad, unskillful thoughts, namely, sensual, malicious, and cruel thoughts. by Carol Russell
A dharma talk given October 18, 2022 Gratitude for the inspiration for this talk goes to David Loy, Buddhist scholar, practicing Zen Buddhist and one of the founders of Rocky Mountain Ecodharma Retreat Center, and to Joanna Macy, PhD, Buddhist scholar, systems thinker, activist, and root teacher for the Work That Reconnects. ---- Philosopher and social commentator Noam Chomsky recently said, "We’re approaching the most dangerous point in human history." He includes the potential for climate catastrophe, the threat of nuclear war, as well as the rise in authoritarian governments and the decline of democracy around the world, as the most pressing and threatening dangers to the world at this time. What does Buddhism offer us in these times? Are we here to ‘wake up?’ Does that mean our own personal salvation journey or are we here to wake up to what is happening in the world? Maybe less so now, in Western Buddhism, but historically, there has been an interpretation that the goal of practice is to transcend this world – not being reborn is the ultimate attainment. This can lead to a kind of indifference to and withdrawal from the threats to the world. Why be concerned with fixing the problems of the world if the goal is to get out of here? Joseph Campbell, author and scholar of religion and mythology said: Every religion is true one way or another. It is true when understood metaphorically. But when it gets stuck in its own metaphors, interpreting them as facts, then you are in trouble. Is this true in Buddhism? By Mark Donovan A Dharma Talk given November 30, 2021 I wanted to start tonight's talk with a poem:
The Buddha's Last Instruction, by Mary Oliver “Make of yourself a light,” said the Buddha, before he died. I think of this every morning as the east begins to tear off its many clouds of darkness, to send up the first signal – a white fan streaked with pink and violet, even green. An old man, he lay down between two sala trees, and he might have said anything, knowing it was his final hour. The light burns upward, It thickens and settles over the fields. Around him, the villagers gathered and stretched forward to listen. Even before the sun itself hangs, disattached, in the blue air, I am touched everywhere by its ocean of yellow waves. No doubt he thought of everything that had happened in his difficult life. And then I feel the sun itself as it blazes over the hills, like a million flowers on fire - Clearly I’m not needed, yet I feel myself turning into something of inexplicable value. Slowly, beneath the branches, he raised his head. He looked into the faces of that frightened crowd. Sunday I worshiped in the tradition of my family at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church. The preacher, who was a child during the Cold War, remembered practicing “duck and cover” at school, the fear that arose in her with the loud and shrill ringing of sirens, images that played in her mind of victims from the nuclear bombs dropped in Japan. In 2018 she was visiting Maui when, you may remember, there was a false missile alert. The alert stated that there was an incoming ballistic missile threat, advised residents to seek shelter, and concluded: "This is not a drill". The preacher commented that once again she was paralyzed with fear. She wondered what had become of her faith. And she contrasted standing strong in faith and hope to a state of fearful paralysis. There is a really huge gulf between those states of being, isn’t there? I think this is at the heart of our spiritual practice--the good news that draws us to this practice like a moth to the light. It’s the message of a cross-stitch sampler that hangs on my wall and reads, “Fear knocked on the door, Faith answered. No one was there.” In a recent dharma talk on Dharma Seed, Brian Lesage described the spiritual journey in the following way: Exploring what can help our hearts to be here fully for this journey--this spiritual journey from birth to death, a journey that I hope this practice brings us more depth, kindness, love and wisdom. So we can have a wholeheartedness to our journey. Early Influences and Insights Howie Cohn has been teaching our Prescott Insight Fall Retreat for, I’m not sure, something like 16 years, so he’s an important guiding teacher for our Sangha. So, when I saw a link to this short interview on the registration page for an upcoming in-person retreat, I decided I had to pass it along!
I share it with you here with his permission. No one is sure when or with whom the interview was conducted (it must have been over 12 years ago now – he’s been leading his Mission Dharma sangha for over 35 years). I think you’ll find this to be an interesting and elucidating read! Q: What originally drew you to meditation practice and who were your first important teachers? Also, who do you consider your primary teacher these days (if you have one)? HC: I was a competitive athlete in my younger years, and I was always interested in the mind and body connection. I developed some homespun theories about how to live one’s life in a relaxed way based on what I was learning from sports. I probably irritated a few people with my theories about life when I tried them out. The real spark was meeting my freshman college girlfriend. Her brother was part of the original cadre of teachers that spread Transcendental Meditation in the Western world. I became interested in learning about it. Our romance didn’t last, but my interest in meditation did. Some years later I went to a Ram Dass retreat and met Stephen Levine, who was offering vipassana practice as part of the retreat. I soon moved to Santa Cruz to sit in Stephen’s weekly sitting group. Within several months, I sat my first 3-month retreat, followed by many more 3-months retreats. I consider Joseph Goldstein to be my root teacher in vipassana. He was such an inspiring guide for me on those early 3-month retreats. I still carry his depth of wisdom and commitment in my heart. In 1985, I became part of Jack Kornfield’s first teacher training group along with James Baraz, Sylvia Boorstein, Anna Douglas and Sharda Rogell. Jack has been such a wonderful teacher and mentor for me and my gratitude is boundless. By Carol Russell A Dharma talk given September 27, 2021 Yesterday morning I was on a hike and I ran into an old acquaintance, a local artist, someone I hadn’t seen in years. I was excited to see him, hear how his life has been, and connect. An interesting, although in retrospect maybe not uncommon, thing happened. He told me how well his life has been going, how the Pandemic hadn’t really changed anything for him; he was still making art. At some point I mentioned I hoped that the Pandemic was teaching us some things about working together to solve bigger problems that are causing suffering in the world. That set him off on a series of thoughts that made it clear that he and I had very different ideas about many things and he was eager to let me know his point of view. In the midst of it all I shared a few of my own contrasting views, which seemed to increased his opposition.
The conversation was friendly enough, but I walked away from the conversation without the experience of ‘connection’ that I had anticipated when I first saw this person on the trail. What is this experience of connection that can happen between people? And not just people, but also the experience of connection that transcends the person-to-person relationship. Like what we sometimes sense when we are connecting with an animal, or walking in nature, or looking at the starry sky, or deep in meditation. Buddhist literature abounds with contemporary writings about the illusion of separation that clouds our experience of our true nature of an open, connected, boundless heart. In Sharon Salzberg’s book, Lovingkindness- The Revolutionary Art of Happiness, she writes: By Mark Donovan
A Dharma Talk given March 16, 2021 I’m sorry to report, but last week there was fake news that was shared and spread in our Sangha. It was reported that I would have the last word on “suffering.” Do you want to know the truth? The truth is that as long as we are alive in these particular body-minds, the worldly winds will blow. Like that wind yesterday on the Ides of March; a date that coincided with the first full moon of the Roman calendar and when tributes were paid to gods and goddesses. That wind wore me out. The dogs and I climbed into bed and under the covers at 8:00 last night. I had started the day paying tribute to a 7-year old girl whose grandmother requested that I bake cupcakes for her birthday. The first cupcakes I’d ever made, marbled cake with chocolate buttercream frosting and blue and white sprinkles. A couple of weeks ago I held up the computer video for you to see the calligraphic sign I taped to the wall for the month with the word, “suffering.” I found that I didn’t really want to look at the sign. Although the calligraphy turned out pretty well, there was something I found aversive, dark and heavy about the word. To suffer, from the Latin sufferre meaning “to bear.” An image that comes to mind is of the god Atlas, on one knee, bearing the weight of the world. In our study of Ajahn Chah, he often used the phrase “patient endurance.” To bear, to endure. Over the weekend I participated in a Zoom retreat with Brian and Sebene titled Cultural and Spiritual Bypassing. We explored what gets left out, such as the feminine, in Buddhism. The Thai Buddhist tradition, the birthplace of Insight Meditation, will not ordain women. We can bring to mind multiple examples of American cultural dominance and oppression, such as the historical disenfranchisement of African-Americans, Native Americans and people of color. Last week the pope declared that any person who is not cisgendered heterosexual is a sinner. LGBTQ persons are left out. There is the present scapegoating and violence directed at Asian-Americans, a clear reaction to Trump’s blaming China for the pandemic, calling it the Chinese virus, and his dog whistling to white supremacists. And in all of this there is both personal and collective suffering. Besides the physical blows of violence, such as those we read about weekly now directed at elderly Asian-Americans in our cities, there is the hardening of hearts, the loss of rights and dignity, the pains of poverty. Last night on the PBS Newshour there was a report on Yemen and the millions of people there who are at risk of starvation, 600,000 children who are now dying of starvation. I felt consumed by pain watching the video documentary of their small bodies immobile, limbs shrunken to bones without muscle or flesh, stomachs bloated, huge eyes vacant, hauntingly filled with pain. And their parents and families bearing the pain of losing a young family member -- the impacts of war, climate change, famine. by Carol Russell A Dharma Talk given February 23, 2021 We are embarking on an exploration of the core of the Buddha’s teachings, the four noble truths. Our sangha’s founding leader, Carol Cook, had a tradition of beginning each year with an immersion into this subject, because it is utterly central and foundational to our practice. Carol has inspired us to take it up. Our plan is to take the four truths, one noble truth at a time, and for four weeks each of us will offer an exploration of the truth of the month. This should be especially interesting because of the fact that there are endless ways of examining such a profound teaching: historic, contemporary, esoteric, practical, psychological, experiential, scholarly, and on and on. We are hoping for some interesting conversations amongst all of us in these explorations. Whether it is the first time you are studying these truths or you are circling back for the hundredth time, we know there is always more to understand. We hope you will take the Buddha’s profound teachings into your daily life and share your fresh discoveries and insights when we meet on Tuesday nights. Simply put, the four noble truths are:
There is suffering. There is a cause of suffering. There is an end of suffering. The remedy is the eight-fold path. Did you ever wonder why these are called the ‘noble’ truths? Some say it is because these are the truths which cause nobleness. Of course, we are dealing with translations from the Pali language and a great deal of time passing, and the fact that the teachings were oral for some time, but I recently found this explanation: that it may be more accurate to say, the nobles’ truths, or the truths possessed by the noble ones. The dictionary definition of noble is: Having or showing qualities of high moral character, such as courage, generosity, and integrity. So, we are establishing a connection between acknowledging, understanding and freeing ourselves from suffering and these natural and noble qualities of courage, generosity, and integrity. The First Noble Truth, the truth of suffering. In Pali, the word is dukkha. The truth of dukkha. Sometimes dukkha is translated as ‘dissatisfaction.’ I like that word because it includes more than the overt times of suffering in life, it includes that background feeling that we all have at times that things aren’t reliably satisfying. No matter how great a life you have, this human life is bound to include stress. It may be those underlying existential questions like, what are we doing here? What is it all about? Dukkha is not personal, and it’s ubiquitous in the world of form and incarnation. Everyone has the experience of dissatisfaction. |
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©Amanda Giacomini Detail of the Great Hall Mural Courtesy Spirit Rock Meditation Center Used with permission |